His voice is a groan of understanding, every inch of his delicious body loosening as his eyes take me in fully. He only briefly tightens when I push off from the door and march toward him.
Before I’ve stormed halfway across the room, I’ve discarded my clothes, swords, and belt. There’s no time for coyness, uncertainty, or insecurity. Not in this world.
I let him take in my thick body, my wide hips, my heavy breasts, and his eyes widen like he’s seeing a goddess for the first time.
Vallan is back. My mother is alive and with us.
All of that can wait. This can’t, because I’ve needed it for so long—kept it buried amid my pain and struggles ever since losing Lukain.
He betrayed me. Not the first man to do it.
Then he rectified his betrayal and begged for forgiveness.
I have half a mind to make him grovel more once this is over—to put him in his place so he can understand how I’ve felt all these years after losing the Grimsons and my entire life in Nuhav, thanks to him.
I reach for the filthy half-blood and help him throw his tunic over his head, then land on the many scars slicing up and down his muscled torso where Skartovius—among others—wounded him in the past.
He deserved those wounds. He likely deserved more.
But Truehearts fuck me if I’m not happy he’s still alive. Even if he petrified me as Overseer Verant, and needled me every chance he could, in secret, during my months-long imprisonment.
I killed the vampiress he used to replicate me—the chronicler Kleora—and that has to count for something.
And now my revenge will be complete.
As I reach into his pants and feel his thick cock in my hand, my blood sings and I know my revenge is underway. He cannot stop me and he doesn’t dare try. Master Lukain simply takes everything I have to give him.
He tilts his head and slams his lips over my mouth, groaning into my throat as I furiously stroke him in his pants. He’s already nearing completion, but I can’t have that—not when I’ve waited so long for this.
When I pull back breathlessly from his lips, locking eyes, I see his skitter to the supple slope of my neck, the eager veins waiting for him.
“Take what you’ve craved all this time, Master. Take what will make you mine,” I command Lukain, “and learn what my other mates have discovered: You may be stronger than me . . . but it is notyouwho owns me.”
My implication is clear. My roguish smile guarantees it.
“Fuck have I missed you, little grimmer.”
He bends his head slightly. I wince at the cold touch of his fangs against my neck, mingled with his warm breath.
The years we have waited since we last did this . . . I don’t know if I would do the wait all over again to get to this moment, but it certainly makes the moment headier, stronger.
When his fangs puncture my skin, I let out a moan. I feel the need of him pressing into my curves, his hard cock throbbing against the soft swell of my belly. My arms wrap around his flexed middle, his corded muscles, and as he sucks blood from me, I suck on his ear and then lick the side of his face. I desperately need touch from this man, after so long apart.
Lukain steps back in a haze, my blood trickling from his lips. He smiles, eyes bright and needful.
Ishovehim hard in the chest, forcing him to stumble back and flop onto the bed as the edge cuts his legs out from under him.
With my help, we quickly pull his pants down and I toss them aside. His hard cock lifts like a spear I can’t wait to ride. I straddle my former master, taking the dominant position so he understands who the mistress is now.
In the Firehold, he owned me. He commanded me.
In Manor Marquin, I am Lady Lock, and things will never be the same as they once were. Lukain taught me plenty, and now I will teach him some things.
First and foremost, I amnotthe broken girl I was in the Grimsons. I have been built back stronger thanks to my three mates, and if Lukain wishes to become my fourth, he has big boots to fill.
I don’t need foreplay from Lukain. Neither does he. I’m not sure if I’ve ever felt such a solidly hard cock in my hand as I hover over him, and I know drinking my blood has something to do with it. My cunt aches with need, wetness dripping down the insides of my thighs.
I shake his fat cockhead against my fat pussy lips, drawing out moans from us both. Then I sit on him, planting my ass down on his lap so I can ride the life out of the half-blood.
